Current mood:	content
Current music:	Almost Lover - A Fine Frenzy (listen to it!)
Entry tags:	author: burningeden, shipper: burke/cristina, shipper: derek/meredith, shipper: mark/addison

Title: Fallen (7/?)
Author: Chelle Storey-Daniel
RATING: Mild NC17 (I just don't feel smut right now)
Pairings: Callie/Alex, Mark/Addison, Derek/Meredith, Burke/Cristina
Summary: In Ready For A Fall, Callie's marriage to George ended and she found love and happiness with Alex. Now, it's Addison's turn to get married, Meredith is engaged to Derek, and Cristina and Burke are slowly rebuilding their own life together. There are many ways to fall. Some are good. Some are bad. And when you hit the earth ... you've simply fallen ... and sometimes it hurts too much to stand again.

A/N: You can't possibly read or enjoy this until you've read Ready for a Fall. Of all the fics I've written, that one is the one I'm most proud of. :)



Previously in Fallen... :)

One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six


*~*~*~*~*~

*~*~*~*~*~

"Where were you?" Burke demanded when Cristina opened the door. "Have you ever heard of a telephone?"

Cristina reached into her back pocket and pulled out her cell. "It’s dead."

"I’ve been worried sick. You’re two hours late. I called the hospital and they said that you left a while ago." He pulled her into his arms, hanging onto her.

She rolled her eyes. Ever since Callie’s attack, Burke had become so overprotective that he called her the second she was out of sight in the mornings to make sure her car doors were locked. No matter how often she reminded him that they locked automatically, he still wanted to hear the click. He had actually taken the day off at Mercy West to have an alarm system installed in their apartment. She patted him on the back and said, "Paranoia will give you ulcers."

"Not calling me will give you a night on the sofa."

She smiled up at him. "Do I smell baked chicken?"

"You do." Leaning down, he kissed her and took her coat, hanging it on the hook behind the door. "Have you seen Callie?"

"Yeah. It’s her birthday. I took her something from Hot Topic. She’s scaring me," Cristina replied, letting him lift her onto the kitchen counter. She plucked a yeast roll from the pan and bit into it. "It’s like she goes in and out of herself. She’ll be fine for a while and then ... she’s just ... not there anymore."

Burke accepted the bite of roll she gave him. "You haven’t been sleeping and last night I had an entire conversation with you that you didn’t hear. This thing ... this horrible, horrible thing that happened to Callie is making *you* go in and out of yourself and you only saw it. She lived it."

"I know." Cristina finished off the roll and pushed her hair away from her face. "Meredith said that Derek’s been having nightmares. She said that he keeps talking about Callie and -"

"We see things like this every day in our profession." Burke reached up to touch the necklace he had given her for Christmas the previous year. He had taken her engagement ring to the jeweler, where the diamonds were removed from the ring and set into a locket. It made him feel better to know that she wore the ring he had painstakingly chosen, even if it was like this. "We see it from a professional standpoint. Callie made it personal for all of us. We’re all feeling it in different degrees."

"It feels like ‘cagefighter Callie’ is down for the count."

Burke shook his head. "You can’t keep a woman like her down for long. She’s strong and she has an amazing support system."

Cristina grinned. "I love your brain."

"I love yours too." He kissed her, lingering over her lips for a while. "Erica Hahn called me today and mentioned that she wasn’t happy at Seattle Grace any more. She suggested that perhaps I’d be interested in returning to my old position."

"But you’re the Chief at Mercy West!"

"I miss *my* support system."

She watched him as he took the chicken out of the oven and stirred the contents of two saucepans. "Your support system misses you too."

"I could resign. I’ve had over a year of experience as Chief of Surgery and ... that may look good down the road."

"Or it could look like you got the job, hated it, and bailed."

"Or it could look like I got the right job at the wrong hospital. And - I don’t want to work eighteen hours a day anymore. I never see you. This was a great job before we worked out our problems, but now ... I miss you. I miss you more than I did when we were apart because ... I know you’re here. And I could be here, too."

"You would give up the Chief of Surgery job at a prestigious hospital because you *miss* me?"

"I know what my priorities are. And you’re at the very top."

"This is your career, Preston."

"This is my *life*, Cristina." She picked up another roll, but he took it from her and dropped it back onto the pan, saying, "Stop stress eating."

"I don’t want you to regret this. You got your dream. You’re *Chief*."

"I got the *job*. I’m looking at the dream."

With a smirk, she pulled him closer. "Well, now I’m not hungry at all. Wanna get laid?"

Their dinner was forgotten.

Cristina couldn’t *wait* for him to return to Seattle Grace.

*~*~*~

Callie woke with a start. She always woke with a start. Glancing at the clock on the end table, she realized that her afternoon birthday nap had drifted toward evening, then she let her gaze fall on the photo that was illuminated by the glow of the clock. It was the photo that Alex had ripped. Not that one precisely, but a duplicate. He had found the negatives and had one blown up to an eight by ten to replace the one he had destroyed. It was in a new frame, a silver one that said ‘Forever’ at the top. Alex had given it to her for her birthday along with her wedding rings. He had even gotten on his knees to beg her to wear them again, swearing on everything in the world that he’d never hurt her, never leave her, never make her regret it. She believed him. She had to believe him.

Lifting her hand, she gazed at her rings. They were a little snug because of the swelling, but she felt complete again. She heard the door creak open and rolled over, smiling at Irene. Flipping the lamp on, she sat up. "Hey."

"Hey, honey," Irene replied, closing the door behind her as she walked into the room. She carried a large package, gaily wrapped. "Happy Birthday. I just got off work so I had to miss most of the party."

"There wasn’t one. We had brunch together and then I slept most of the day away."

"That’s understandable." Irene held out the box. "I hope you like it."

"You didn’t have to get me anything," Callie told her, accepting it. She opened it and smiled when she saw the snowglobe inside. It was a scene from ‘The Wizard of Oz’ which they had watched together recently. Winding it, Callie grinned up at her mother in law as the tinkling of ‘Somewhere Over The Rainbow’ began to play. "I love it. Thank you."

Irene smiled and sat down, watching as Callie shook it, making the snow fall. "Can I talk to you?"

Meeting her eyes, Callie frowned. "Okay."

"I know that you love Alex. I know. I know that you two are perfect together and he’s a better man because of you, but - I didn’t know that you had an alcohol problem." Irene shook her head. "I just found out today at the hospital. You know how gossip is at that place."

Callie didn’t reply so Irene continued. "I also know that alcoholism is a disease. I know that you can’t help it, but, Callie, he had to live through this once already with his father. It destroyed him every single time his dad would come home drunk or use our food money for more alcohol. He used to force Alex to go into the kitchen to get him more beer and -"

"It’s not like that with me."

"Did you really almost kill yourself intentionally with liquor?"

"Yes, but -"

"Then it’s worse." Irene stared at her, unblinking. "I’m asking you as his mother to not do this to him. I’m asking you to remember your wedding vows and think about him first. Addiction is a beast and I understand that it’s hard to be strong, but my son is miserable and you can stop it."

"I have stopped it. I had one slip up in over a year." Callie’s palms had begun to sweat so she laid the globe back in the box and swiped them over the cover. "I’m not perfect."

"No one is," Irene agreed. "All I’m saying is ... think. Think about where he came from, Callie. Don’t make him overcome that just to relive it again and again with you. Don’t be like his father because if you ever have kids ... it’ll damage them for life and Alex will wind up like me." Getting to her feet, Irene took a deep breath. "I have to go. I hope you have a good night, sweetheart."

Callie nodded, watching the other woman leave. The last strings of the song finished playing and she lifted the globe again, peering into it. She decided then that she’d give anything to be picked up and taken to Oz, to anywhere. She wanted to vanish for a while. It didn’t help that workmen would be arriving the following day to install the security cameras and fence. Finding out that the house and yard would be crawling with strange men had prompted her to self medicate and go straight to bed. As much as she wanted it done, the thought of it left her panicked inside. She wanted to run. She needed to run.


Since she was a child, at the first hint of trouble ... Callie ran. After wrecking her first bike, she had hidden in the woods overnight and that trait had remained with her through adulthood. When she learned of George’s infidelity, she hopped a plane to North Carolina for fifteen days and didn’t call anyone to say she was alive. Alex was the first person she had ever invited along for one of her self imposed exiles and she knew, as she gazed at the globe, that it was time for another one. This time ... Alex couldn’t go.

She needed to help herself, she decided. She needed to get away from the pitying eyes of her friends and family and *think* for a while. She couldn’t do that surrounded by people who coddled her and made excuses for her. No matter how they tried, they didn’t take away the pain, the fear, the anxiety. She was terrified in her own home, scared to walk into a darkened room and shocked at her own reflection when she walked past a mirror. A change of scenery would be perfect. And she’d call from wherever she landed to assure them all that she was okay.

Thinking required a change of venue sometimes.

Running felt like the smart thing to do.

She got to her feet and located her cell phone. Within fifteen minutes, her plane was being fueled and readied for a flight to Alaska. It was the first place she thought of. Miles and miles of empty stretches with no one to see her. She had little doubt that she could secure a small cabin, hide away, and be alone with her thoughts. Locking the bedroom door, she hastily threw together an overnight bag and pulled a wad of cash from the fireproof box on the top shelf of her closet. She stowed the bag underneath the bed just as someone wiggled the doorknob.

"Callie?" Alex called.

She adjusted the dust ruffle before she let him in. "Sorry. I was gonna change clothes and I didn’t want anyone walking in."

"How do you feel?"

"Fine. Good. I’m good. Great. Really."

He cupped her cheek, looking into her eyes. "Are you *sure*?"

Her stomach twisted. She loved and hated the way he could see through her, into her. "I’m better," she assured him, not feeling the false conviction in her own voice. She looked away first, motioning at the bed. She sat down, but he remained on his feet. "Is something wrong, Jock Strap?"

"I don’t know," Alex replied, crossing his arms over his chest. "You tell me."

Callie shrugged innocently. Because his gaze was becoming unbearable, she finally said, "Are we ever gonna talk about the drinking? Because ignoring it doesn’t make it go away."

He cleared his throat, more to buy time than because he needed to. It wasn’t a topic he cared to discuss at all, but she had tried for several days. "Let’s talk about it then."

"You’re still mad at me for it."

"You’re still pissed at me for shooting my mouth off, too."

"Alex."

"Fine, I’m mad as hell." He nodded. "It infuriates me to think about it. You ruined your sobriety over something stupid as hell. It was stupid. And it makes me sick to know that you did it. If you’re waiting on me to yell at you though ... it’s going to be one hell of a wait. I think you’re sorry for it. I think you’re punishing yourself enough for everyone. Right?"

"I am sorry," she confirmed. "And scared that I’ll do it again."

"Why?"

"Because I like it. Because I really think I have a problem and - and I want it to go away."

Alex sat down beside her, his fingers digging into his thighs. "Baby, do I not make you happy anymore? Did I push you so far that you can’t come back? Because you were fine until we fought about the air show."

"I haven’t been fine. All along."

"Cal-"

"I’m a great actress, Alex." Reaching over, she took his hand. "I’m strong. I have willpower, but I think about drinking every day. Good or bad."

"Since when?"

"When I was married to George ... it was like a drinking game. If he left without saying he loved me ... I’d take a shot. If he hurt my feelings ... I’d do two. If he made me feel inferior to his friends ... I’d shoot whatever was left in the bottle and try not to hurt for a while. It was the only way I could deal."

"Do I make you feel that way?"

"You made me feel worse, Alex. George ignored me, which at the time was awful, but you - you made it very clear that I was a mistake you made and you weren’t coming home."

"I was verbally abusive. I get that. I shouldn’t have said -"

"You’re forgiven," she replied, cutting him off.

"You’re forgiven, too." He gave her a sad smile. "I don’t know how to help you through this drinking thing, Callie. I really don’t. I can only tell you that if me leaving played any part in it that you won’t ever have to worry about it again. I know I’ve said it before, but I’m not going anywhere. None of *us* are going anywhere. We’re all here for you."

Callie looked away. "My parents will probably try to send me to rehab. Maybe I should have gone last time."

His eyes widened. "You want to go?"

"I want to never drink again," she replied.

"Rehab doesn’t guarantee that," he said, choosing his words carefully. "And neither does running away to rehab."

She swallowed hard. Surely he didn’t know. "I’m not -"

"It’s what you do. You get scared and you run. And you’re terrified right now. Right?"

"No."

He leaned a little closer. "You’re not *that* great of an actress."

Callie forced herself to smile at him, even as she thought of the packed bag under the bed.

She let him talk her into going downstairs for dinner after that, but the smile never returned to her face.

*~

Melana sat on the bed, rubbing lotion into her skin. Raphael sat next to her, rigid and fully clothed, flipping through a book. She took a deep breath and looked at him. "I have a bruise on my leg."

"I have an even larger one, Sasquatch," he replied, lowering the book to look at the purpling bruise that marred her bronzed skin. With a grin, he sat up, lifted her leg, and kissed it. "Better?"

"No. Your children and I were the ones blessed with full lips, Raphael, so try a little harder. Chickens peck, not men."

With a grin, he lowered his head and did a much better job. Despite the tension he felt, he lost himself in the task and a full minute passed before she tapped him on the shoulder. "What, honey?" he asked.

"We need to take the twins to Greece. Tomorrow. Stavros and Loukas are ready to return to Miami. I took it upon myself to speak with Chief Webber about Alex taking some time off and he agreed." She continued to rub lotion into her skin. "Please, Raph? We both know what they need. Callie in particular."

"A massage from Eros?" Raph asked, bitterness creeping into his voice.

Mel smacked his arm. "I still can’t believe she did that. That’s *four* men that we know about."

"FOUR!?"

"George, Alex, Mark and Eros."

Raphael sat up. "Yes, we can go to Greece tomorrow. I need to make Addison a widow."

"Stop that."

"Sorry, mi vida. It’s just ... she’s -"

"Not a virgin, Raphael. We established that months ago."

"We better change the subject before I go choke Alex." Scratching his chin, Raphael added, "The construction crew arrives tomorrow. Leon should be able to oversee it."

Mel chuckled. "You never told Callie that he was your partner for a while, did you?"

"She’d call it overkill."

"It could make her feel safer, sweetheart. Alex and Blake were duly impressed with your work history."

"They better be. I’ll slip right back into agent mode if they hurt my kids."

"That’s so manly I could just *die*." She breathed deep, sniffing the air. "Nothing like misspent testosterone. I think I shall refer to you as Pepé Le Pew if you keep spraying it."

He kissed her lips, cupping her face. "I wonder what people would say if they knew who actually had the bullet scar in this family."

"That is not something I care to revisit."

"You’re brave, Melana. And our daughter has your guts." He ran a hand through his hair and finally told her the truth. "She’s about to fly, mi vida."

"Fly?"

"Branson called. She had her plane prepared today. For Alaska."

"WHAT!?"

"Alex questioned her indirectly and said she didn’t let on. I even spoke a little at dinner about it, but she’s not - why would she run away now?"

"I’ll find out!" Melana started to rise from the bed, but he caught her arm. "If you know what’s good for you-"

"We want to see if she’ll go through with it. I’ve put a special code in the alarm. If she tries to exit *any* door or window it’ll wake the dead." He pulled her back down beside him. "I don’t understand what she’s thinking."

"I don’t know either. I don’t know how to help her, Raphael. I’ve been beaten, certainly, but never by a stranger who would see me dead."

"It probably hurts less when it’s a stranger," he said. "You should tell her about your father. Perhaps-"

"Goodness, no! I’ve built him up so much that it would devastate the children to know the truth about him." She snuggled against him, hoping his warmth would chase away the chill she now felt. "They think he’s some dashing figure who loved his children and -"

"He did," Raph assured her. "But his misdeeds seemed to outweigh his goodness."

"I’d never speak ill of the dead. Don’t you."

"I’d never speak ill of your father, but we both know he wouldn’t take offense to it if he were still alive. He would agree."

"Hmm, do you think our children would speak ill of us if they knew what we had done?"

"Which part?"

"All of it."

Raph kissed her forehead, pulling her closer still. "No, I don’t think they’d speak ill. Although, I’d rather we live silently forever in our own painful memories than add anything to Calliope’s. She’s miserable."

"She needs to be. It’s well earned pain, honey. She very nearly killed herself with alcohol and then -"

"Leave her be."

"How can I? Now you tell me that she’s leaving. Running away again. Do I need to remind you what that does to you when you have to track her down all over the world? Alaska, indeed."

As if on cue, the alarm system wailed. Raphael shot to his feet and didn’t miss a beat as he raced from the room. Alex was a few steps ahead of him in the hallway and when they rounded the corner, Callie was rushing out the front door. It was Cambyses, however, who stopped her. He was leaning patiently against the garage doors and when she ran around the side of the house, he casually caught her around the waist. Lifting her off her feet, he carried her right back where she had come from and put her down on the front stoop.

"Well, well, well," Raphael said, taking the bag from her arm. "I can’t wait to hear what you have to say for yourself."

Callie didn’t meet his eyes. Or Alex’s. Her husband had stepped over the threshold of the door and she didn’t need to see him to know that he was furious. From three feet away, his anger was scorching. Cam put a hand on her back and forced her to walk inside the house. When she headed for the hallway, he gripped her arm and pulled her to the sofa, standing over her like a sentry. Leon arrived last, out of breath, his gun drawn. Raphael waved him away put his hands on his hips as he glared at his daughter.

"What are you doing?" Alex asked, breaking the heavy silence.

She let her head fall forward, then jerked it up again, pretending to be startled. "Am I sleepwalking?"

"That only ever worked when you were a toddler and even then not well." Melana moved to stand beside Alex. "Alaska, Calliope? Honestly, what is there in Alaska other than bears?"

"That’s kinda the whole point," Callie replied. "I - I want to be alone."

"No." Alex and Raphael said together.

"So you can drink?" Mel inquired sternly. "Because if that’s the case, if you’re so proud of your ability to get drunk, then do it here in front of us. Cambyses has wine and I’m fairly certain that Leon has beer in the shack. Which do you prefer?"

Stavros, Loukas and Blake entered the room in various states of dress. "What’s going on?" Loukas asked, tugging his T-shirt over his head.

"Callie’s running again," Cambyses told him. "As usual."

Stavros stalked forward, leaning down so that he could see his sister eye to eye. "Look at me." When she complied, he lifted his finger. "Number one, I love you even though you make it very difficult." He lifted a second finger. "Number two, I voted in your favor against rehab. Number three, if you make me regret that you’ll be visiting me from the afterlife at the prison, because I will choke you to death with my bare hands."

"And what he doesn’t choke," Loukas added, "I’ll drown."

"Cambyses," Melana said. "I suppose since these two will have thoroughly killed her you’ll be left to the burying."

"She’s burying herself without our help," Cam said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Cal, do you know what it would have been like for us if we woke up tomorrow and you were gone? Do you care?"

"Has she ever?" Stavros asked, throwing his hands in the air. "I’m going back to bed."

"We all are." Melana tapped her foot on the floor. "We need to get up early tomorrow, by the way. Our flight to Greece leaves at ten in the morning and I’ll expect you all to be up and ready."

"What?" Cam looked at his mother as if she had grown two heads. "We’re going to -"

"We obviously can’t help your sister," Melana snapped. "But I have *no* doubt that Demi and Xeno will shake some damn sense into her. Calliope, if you wish to be alone once we’re there, I’ll happily lock your ass in the cellar. You want to hit rock bottom? I’ll help all I can."

One by one, the Torres family headed back to their bedrooms, leaving Alex and Callie alone in the living room. Alex retrieved her bag, locked the door, and reset the alarm. When she made no move to follow him, he said, "Let’s go to bed."

"I don’t want -"

He held up his hand to silence her. "We can either go to bed or we can fight about this. Those are our choices and the things I want to say to you would make everything else I’ve said recently seem pretty tame. So, I’m telling you that your best option is to come with me and go to sleep."

Callie got to her feet and trudged behind him. In the bedroom, he tossed her bag into the corner and snatched his robe off, throwing it over the foot of the bed. Callie went into the bathroom to change, but he appeared in the doorway, watching her like a hawk. His intense scrutiny made her so nervous that she dropped her nightclothes twice. When her pajamas hit the floor for the third time, she started to cry.

"Don’t you dare cry," he snapped. "It’s not gonna work this time."

Callie retrieved the tank top and boxers and laid them on the sink, sobbing quietly as she fumbled with her belt. Her vision was so blurred that she could barely see the buckle and she fumbled for what felt like an eternity before Alex shoved her hands out of the way and opened it himself. The silence was punctuated by her sniffles and the hitching of her breath as she pulled her sweater over her head. "Alex, I wasn’t going to let you worry. I was going to call you when I got there."

"Stop talking."

"I just needed to clear my head."

"I mean it."

"I was only going to be gone a couple of days and -"

"Stop. Talking."

Her sobs intensified as she pushed her pants down and moved them aside with her foot. "You mom said that I’m like your dad and -"

"WHAT!?"

"I don’t want to be like him, Alex. I can’t do that to you. I can’t."

"She said that to you? What the fuck!? Is that - this is why you’re leaving? Callie, answer me!"

"She’s right!" Callie wailed. "I-"

"You are not like my father. You’re not. He refused to admit he had a problem and he was a piece of shit asshole who lived to hurt people around him." Alex glared at her. "Okay, maybe you have *that* in common, but -"

"Go to hell!"

"I’m there, Callie. I’m there!" He stalked closer to her. "You swore to me, SWORE, that you would never run from me! You said it! You said it on the roof of the Archfield and -"

"And you swore that you’d never leave so I guess we’re both liars!"

"A person can only be pushed so far!" he shouted. "Our *five* month anniversary is just around the corner and look at us! We spent most of the fourth month apart and now you’re trying to leave and -"

"For a couple of days!"

"I don’t want you gone for a *minute*!"

"It didn’t bother you for the three weeks you -"

"STOP THROWING THAT IN MY FUCKING FACE!" he bellowed. "I SAID I WAS SORRY AND I CAME BACK!"

"Stop screaming at me!"

"THEN LISTEN TO ME! BY GOD, CALLIE, TRYING TO TALK TO YOU IS LIKE SITTING IN THE RAIN AND WONDERING WHY YOU’RE WET! I CAN FEEL MY BRAIN CELLS DYING!"

"THEN STOP TALKING TO ME!"

"I told you! I said this would happen if we tried to discuss this mess tonight! Get your ass in the bed and -"


"Don’t tell me what to do! I am so sick of you acting like -"

"Callie-"

Melana charged into the room like a bull. Her nostrils were flaring, her hair was wild, and her cheeks were flushed with anger. She moved between her daughter and son in law. "Alex, go sleep on the sofa. Callie, not another word."

"Mom-"

"I SAID NOT ANOTHER WORD!" Melana commanded. "AND I MEANT IT! I AM NOT LISTENING TO THIS ALL NIGHT! MAYBE WE SHOULD SKIP GREECE AND GO SEE A LAWYER TO PUT AN END TO THIS MARRIAGE AND PUT BOTH OF YOU OUT OF YOUR MISERY!"

"How can you-" Callie began.

"Look at the two of you," Mel snapped. "Does this feel like a marriage to you? Because it doesn’t look like one from here. Oh, you both wear the rings, but you take them off far too easily. Those rings should act as a tourniquet that stops you both from going for the jugular and that’s all you’ve done lately."

"But-" Alex cut in.

"You left her," Melana told him. "So you deserve the panic you felt when you *thought* that she was leaving you tonight. That’s how she felt for weeks." Turning her attention to Callie, she added, "And that fear you’ve been feeling lately, where everything makes you jump, that’s how he felt watching you in that air show. So, you idiots need to decide if you’re even yet because if you’re not ... then end it ... because one upping each other could get you killed. By me."

Callie began to cry again. She looked at Alex and saw that he was just as shocked as she was by the suggestion of divorcing. He met her gaze and shook his head, reaching for her. She buried her face against his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her, hanging on tight. "I’m sorry," she said. "I’m so sorry."

"It’s okay," he replied, kissing her head. He met Melana’s eyes, still stunned at her words, and the woman actually winked at him before she sashayed out of the room. He rubbed Callie’s back and said, "Let’s go to bed. Please? I can’t do this any more tonight."

She nodded and followed him to their room, where she crawled under the cover. A moment later, he spooned against her back. Neither spoke, but when his hand found hers, she threaded their fingers together and clung to him.

Losing him was suddenly far too real.


*~*~*~*~*~

"Don’t even think about it," Mark said, lifting his head from the pillow when Addison turned on the light and grabbed the diary. "We’re doing this snooping, nosy thing together."

Addison kissed him and yawned as she opened the book. "I dreamed about this thing last night. It was like I was watching a movie. Melana’s movie. It was so vivid."

"I did, too, actually." Mark stretched and got comfortable again. "So, read it."

"Dear Diary, I went to see Raphael in the woods today. I stopped at the orchard and found the biggest orange we had. When I arrived at his campsite, his tent was as tattered as my dress had been. It was lying on the ground in a heap and I didn’t see him anywhere. I was frightened to call out to him. I was building myself up for a full blown panic attack when he emerged from the depths of the forest.

"I didn’t have to tell him I was upset at the state of his campsite. He simply took one look at me and knew. He hugged me, kissed my face, and said he needed to find someplace safer. I don’t understand why he won’t tell me what he’s doing or who would have ransacked his pitiful home, but someone certainly did. I helped him pack his belongings and showed him another grotto, this one accessible only after a short underwater swim. It is set apart from the house and I’m fairly certain that only Demi and I know of its existence.

"I swam with him to the hideout and promised to bring him food. I didn’t notice that his movements were slow and exaggerated until he saw me shiver and walked to where I stood. He was hurt! I had his shirt off in mere seconds and the cut on his shoulder blade indicated that someone had attacked him while his back was turned. I had no special water to aid him toward relief, but he assured me that my tears had a similar effect. I kissed his shoulder for quite a while and it amused him so much that he smiled at me and told me that he loved me again. I wonder if anyone else in the world has ever felt the way that we do. I hope so because it’s a wonderful thing."

"My turn," Mark told her, holding out his hand for the journal. "Diary, Xenos has been cured. Mother thinks that the lord has finally heard her please, but I’m not at all certain that the Lord was there at Talking Rock. We prayed for Him to come, but I don’t believe he would have allowed the beating. A full month later and I still wear the marks of it. Perhaps Papa takes ‘spare the rod and spoil the child’ too literally. If I have a family one day, I won’t allow anyone to hit them. I would never want anyone to feel the way that I feel.

"I digress. Xeno is doing quite well. In just the four short weeks since his midnight swim, there is meat on his bones and color tinting his cheeks. He awakens at dawn to frolic in the surf and I can already see muscle beginning to overtake his limbs. Athena Niarchos, that old cow, has apparently noticed this remarkable change as well because she has been calling on Xeno nearly every day. She claims that she cooks the pastries and tarts that she brings, but I feel quite comfortable in my belief that she only gets near the kitchen to steal food.

"Mama and Papa have gone to Egypt on business. They’re leaving from there and going to the United States. Oh, I’m so envious. I have never been to American, but since Raphael creeps into my room every night and tells me all about his home in Florida, I feel as if I’ve been a million times. He takes me to wonderful places every time he touches me.

"I told him that we are sinners, but he touched the scar on my back and disagreed. He said that I was a wingless Angel who could never truly sin. He said that my wings had been snatched away when I fell to the earth because people were jealous of them. He spoke with such conviction that allowed myself to believe that it had not been a belt after all ... that broke my flesh open. Of course, I know it’s a foolish notion, but his stories amuse me nevertheless.

"I want to fall asleep and wake up with him for the rest of my life. I told him a much and he swore he felt the same way. If we are the only people who share such a dream then I feel sorry for the rest of the world. Love is safe and strong and it renders me speechless every time he awakens those emotions in me. Which is quite often. I think perhaps we are hell bound, but what a partner I’ve found for the ride."

Addison smiled as she took the diary and flipped the page. There was more artwork there. Melana had perfectly captured what a young Raphael must have looked like. His smiling eyes had not changed in the slightest. "Dear Diary, Papa and Mama have been gone for six weeks. They do not get to see the full extent of Xeno’s recovery or witness my own deterioration. That night at Talking Rock, I told God that if he would spare Xeno, I would gladly take my brother’s sickness into myself. Well, God truly must have been within earshot because for a while now ... I’ve been very ill. I cannot go near the kitchen because the stench of food repulses me and even though I rarely eat ... I awake every morning in Raphael’s arms and lose the contents of my stomach.

"I do not feel well at all. I try to hide my discomfort because we are all overjoyed at Xeno’s good fortune, but Demi keeps asking me why I have a gray face and he worries himself over my full dinner plate returning the kitchen every night. I told him that I simply miss our parents, but that is a lie that I told with no real sincerity or conviction. Raphael brought me water from the spring last night and told me to drink it this morning. He still slumbers in the bed and I awoke to do as he requested.

"I pray that it helps. I fear, every time we fall asleep, that I will perish in the night. I know how it would wound me to awaken with my lover dead in my arms and I do not wish that on Raphael. I hope this affliction ends soon. If it must kill me, I’d prefer it happen while I’m alone." Addison shook her head. "She’s pregnant. Oh god... you don’t think her father will beat her for this, do you?"

"Turn the page and let’s find out."

A knock on the door forced her to shove the journal under the pillow. "Come in."

"Good morning, ma’am. Sir." Willa bowed, tugging at the stiff sleeve of her uniform. Barnacle said you wanted to journey to Talking Rock today. It’s a fine morning for travel. I think you’ll find that Greece after a rain storm is even lovelier than without. We’ve prepared a food basket for your lunch and stocked the boat with plenty of water. Will you be needing anything more?"

Mark watched the old woman scratch her belly, then her arm. "We need you to wear regular clothes. All of you."

Addison nodded her agreement. "The formality makes us uncomfortable."

"It does that to all of us, ma’am." Willa looked down at her uniform. "Thank you so much."

Mark grinned at the passion in her voice. "And we’d love it if the staff joined us for dinner tonight in the largest dining room. We’re lonely for company and I’m sure you all get tired of eating in the staff wing."

Willa was so excited by the invitation that she gathered up her already short dress and started to leave the room. She gave Mark and Addison quite a shocking glimpse of her garters before she stopped and looked back at them. "By the way," she said, letting her skirt fall. "Talking Rock is a magical place. It has been trod upon by nobility and blessed by Saints. You are welcome to everything she has to offer, but I must warn you not to consume her bounty with greed. If you are hungry, eat her first. If you are thirsty, drink your fill. However, remember that moderation is the perfect measure for everything and use restraint. There are eyes there that see all, hear all, and know all."

Addison and Mark exchanged amused looks when Willa bowed herself out of the room. The diary was forgotten while they dressed in comfortable clothing for their excursion. As promised, the boat was fully stocked with not only food and water, but several blankets as well. Barnacle, who escorted them to the small boat, warned them to go slowly and return before the sun set. He thanked them for the dinner invitation and waved them off. Addison turned at the halfway point to look back at Bounty’s Keep. She saw that he was still there and lifted her hand. He did the same, then turned and walked back into the grotto.

They pulled up to the dock at Talking Rock and Addison used an entire roll of film on Mark. She clicked her camera fast as he fell off the boat and into the water as he attempted to tie off to the dock. "You would think," she said, laughing. "after all the sailing trips with Callie and Alex ... that you would have your sea legs."

"I don’t see you doing it!" he snapped, pulling himself into the boat for the second time. "Do you think there are towels on this thing?"

Addison opened a hatch and nodded. "There are. Oooh, and dry clothing, too! Our clothes! They must have done our laundry."

"Can the Karakas-Torres clan adopt us?" he asked.

"AHA!" She pointed at him. "You said Karakas-Torres. I *heard* the hyphenation."

"No, you didn’t. And it’s not the same thing. I’m talking about two *different* families."

"Wrong. You’re talking about two different families who became *one* through marriage."

"Melana uses just Torres."

"So?"

"Take a page from her book."

"It’s a very nice book." She smiled when he stepped onto the dock and reached for her, helping her out. "Do you think it’ll be horrible? The rest of the story?"

"Probably, but we know the happy ending, baby." He leaned down and kissed her. "Let’s go play explorer."

"Your shoes are wet."

Mark led her to the end of the deck and toed off his sodden sneakers. "Barefoot explorer then." He dug his toes into the sand and sighed. "Ahhh, nice."

Addison handed him his dry clothing and shucked her own shoes, leaving them beside his. For good measure, she took a photo of them and laughed when he called her a ‘damn tourist’. She was still laughing when she followed him into the woods. She got a nice photo of his naked backside as he changed and hung his wet things over the limbs of the tree that had failed to hide his nudity.


Their first visit to the island had been brief. Xeno had been a gracious host, but they had not stayed very long. Now, they explored the ruins more closely and enjoyed the many stories they hatched about what could have happened to cause such destruction to the old church.

"Why do you think they didn’t rebuild it?" Addison asked, running her hand over a wooden pew that was pristine, though covered in ivy.

Mark glanced up at the gleaming white cross that rose high into the air out of the rubble. "I don’t know. Maybe they decided not to believe in fairy tales or -"

As soon as he said the words ... something bit into his foot. He yelled out from the shock and looked down. A scorpion was a few inches away from his heel and there was blood rolling down his skin. Addison followed his gaze, saw the creature, and threw the camera at it. Naturally, she missed and the heavy Nikon landed on his foot, causing him to hop up and down. "Addison, for Heaven’s sake!"

"KILL IT! SQUISH IT!"

"Stop yelling!" Mark snapped. He retrieved the camera and pushed the scorpion away. "Do you think it’s poisonous?"

"Aren’t they always?" Addison leaped onto the pew when the scorpion scuttled her way. "AHHHHH! KILL IT!"

"No!" Mark flopped down beside her, crossing his leg so he could see the damage to the back of his foot. "Can you focus here? I may be dying."

"Healing spring!" She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. "Let’s go."

"I really think I should -"

"Come on!" Addison stood up in the pew and made a wide leap to the side to avoid the scorpion.

Mark followed her, limping slightly. He crossed his arms and watched as she rinsed the wooden cup and filled it at the waterfall. She held it out to him and he obliged, taking a few sips. She followed suit and nodded her head at the pond. "Okay. Get in."

"We are people of science, Addison. I’m poisoned and I need to go -"

"Get in before I shove you in," she replied, her eyes searched every inch of sand around her for another scorpion. "Hurry up."

"Please tell me you don’t believe this." Mark stepped into the pond, arms still crossed. "Because if you’re gonna go crazy I’d at least like you to .... wow."

"I know, right?" She grinned at him. "Isn’t it amazing?"

He squatted down and touched the surface of the water. "It’s hot."

"And tingly?"

"That too," he agreed. "Come in with me."

"I don’t have a reason."

"Jesus, Moonbat." He scowled at her. "It’s water. Water is only ever water and it can’t cure sickness or bites or cancer or -"

"You’re wrong."

Addison spun on her heel to look at Xenos, who was walking toward them with one of the most beautiful women she had ever seen. Her chestnut brown hair was streaked with gray and her sparkling blue eyes seemed to match the water behind her. Addy watched him assist the woman over a fallen limb and smiled in greeting. "Hi."

"Addison, Mark, this is my with Athena Niarchos Karakas. Athena, these are the newlyweds."

"Congratulations," the woman said, clasping Addison’s hand, then Mark’s. "I understand you’re friends with Calliope. Tell me, how is she?"

"She’s good," Addison replied. This was the Athena that Melana had beaten up for making fun of Xenos. She was tempted to comment about it, but the diary was supposed to be private. "She took a bad spill the other day, but she said she’s fine."

"She’s always fine. Nothing can keep that one down. She’s got her mother’s fire and her father’s heart." Looking down at the pond and Mark’s submerged feet, Athena added, "Did you hurt yourself, son?"

"Scorpion." Mark shrugged. "At least I think it was."

"They’re relatively harmless." Xeno shook his head. "I hate that you encountered one, though. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I’m fine. Let me just get out and -"

"Wait," the old man held up his hand. "You must close your eyes first and tell us what’s there?"

"There?"

"Just do it," Addy told her husband. "Before we shun the nonbeliever. Shunnnn."

Mark took a deep breath, shot her a look, and closed his eyes. For a moment there was nothing there and then Derek’s face appeared. He pictured his friend the way he had seen him in high school, after they had taken Derek’s father’s car out for a joy ride and wrapped it around a tree. Derek had suffered a broken leg and wore the same troubled expression that Mark saw him with now. Opening his eyes, he gasped and looked at Addison.

"I saw Derek," he told her and while he would never admit it, the hairs on the back of his neck danced upward. He looked at Xeno and said, "What does it mean?"

"You usually see your heart twin," Xeno explained. "But it could be anyone."

"What’s a heart twin?" Addison asked, recalling the way that Callie’s face had swam in and out of her mind when she had waded.

"The person your heart makes family. Everyone sees someone. It’s the ones that the closest, however, that matter the most. When you see a loved one ... you take them water." Xeno held up a mason jar. "I believe you saw Calliope. She’s the reason I’m here."

Athena pulled another jar from her purse and held it out to Mark. "Please. Help yourself. Take some to this ... Derek, is it?"

"Oh, I don’t think -" Mark began, stepping out of the water.

Addison elbowed him and accepted the jar, smiling at Athena. She kneeled down and scooped water into it, watching as Xeno did the same. "Is it okay ... can I ask you how you know about this place?"

"Certainly." Xeno screwed his lid back on and watched her do the same. "Every family has their tales. Some are funny, some are scary, and some defy logic. Every one of our ancestors wrote about this pond. They claim that people came from all over the world to bathe in it. They claim that it could cure whatever ailed a person.

"I’m not certain what affliction I had as a child. Research suggests that it may have been polio or cystic fibrosis, but I was never formally diagnosed. I was brought here at fourteen to wade into the water and I was never sick again after that." Xeno grinned at Mark. "And it *can* cure cancer. Athena was told that she would never have children because of cervical cancer and we have three sons and she never had treatment. Have you met Anita and Mario? Callie’s godparents?"

Addison nodded.

"She was told that she had three months to live. She had endured several horrific surgeries and then refused treatment after that. Her dream was to see Melana’s homeland and Mel brought her here to live out the rest of her days, but she wasn’t ready to die. So, we brought her here and now ... she’s in remission." Xeno shrugged. "Don’t ask me how."

Mark chuckled. "You really expect us to believe -"

"It is of little consequence to me what you believe, Mark." Xeno’s words were dismissive, but his tone was light. "But I challenge you to show me where the scorpion stung you."

Mark lifted his foot.

After five minutes, he still couldn’t find the wound.

Xenos and Athena said their goodbyes while he was still looking. Addison set the two jars of water in the sand and grinned at her husband. "Are you freaking out?"

"It’s not possible. As soon as my foot doesn’t look like a prune, I’ll show it to you."

"Athena mentioned that there’s a flower garden nearby. Want to go see it?"

"And risk running into more scorpions? Sure, why not?"

"Chicken." She took his hand, leading him around the pond. The thought of scorpions kept her eyes firmly on the ground.

After walking for a few minutes, they stepped into a clearing and gasped. For as far as the eye could see there was an explosion of color and blooms. Bluebonnets, daisies, roses, and more dotted every spot of the ground. Bending down, Addison gently pulled a rose closer, breathing it in. "Callie’s bastard flower! In abundance."

"Should these things be growing in this climate?"

She shrugged. "I’m a *scientist*. Not an agriculture geek. But it looks like they’re thriving."

"God, it smells good," he replied, squatting down beside her. "Or maybe that’s you."

"It does smell good."

Their eyes were hooded when they looked at one another. Addison reached for him first, running her hand over his face before she kissed him. A moment later she was on top of him and he was flat on his back crushing the bluebonnets as he tugged her shirt over her head. As frenzied as their passion was, the moment they were both naked, they slowed. Flesh against flesh should have had the opposite effect, but Mark was suddenly overcome by the desire to rub her down with rose petals so he did just that, slowly covering her belly and pubic area with the silky, soft petals that he plucked one by one. His only comment was that the thatch of red hair between her thighs matched the rose tips and then he was massaging the petals against her skin.

He settled between her thighs after a while, sliding his tongue along every inch of her until he buried his face against the source of her heat and devoured her. She arched her back, digging her nails into the thick, hearty soil that had grown such beautiful flowers. Their coupling was lazy, unhurried, but their release was anything but. They made love twice, discovering new and inventive ways to touch each other.

Spent, Addison curled against his chest and closed her eyes as the sun warmed her well sated body.

They were asleep within minutes.

*~*~*~*~*~*~